Affection
by Snailhair101
Summary: (Part three of 'Solo') As a dreaded conversation with Bobby draws near, Dean attempts to deal with the emotions he feels when it comes to Cas. (Destiel, humor, smutty-smut)
1. Chapter 1

Dean lifted the trunk hatch and propped up the lid of the false bottom inside. The Winchester collection of fire arms stared up at him, most of the guns laying crookedly across each other. A smirk grew along the hunter's face as he reached down and picked up the one with the longest barrel. A familiar, dirty thought had flashed in his mind as soon as the metal was in his tight grip – of chrome, angelic dick.

Dean turned to show his smirk to Cas, who was standing close by with his hands in his coat pockets. In a way, Dean felt a little disappointed that the angel couldn't see or hear his thoughts. Because he was currently imagining the gun as a giant, metal dick; solidly hard and warm to the touch. But as much as Dean knew the thought would get the angel going, Cas couldn't hear it. And Dean sure as hell wasn't gonna say it out loud, because Sam was standing with them at the trunk.

The younger brother took a large bite from his burger, while he half-sat on the edge of the Impala bumper. The three of them were stopped beside the highway at a road side diner, for a quick bite. The open gravel parking space was vacant, except for them, and forest stretched on behind the building. It was just too bad Sam was with them, because if it was only Dean and Cas -

"Er, you okay, Dean?"

Dean snapped himself out of his vulgar thoughts at the sound of his brother's voice. He looked at Sam, who carefully took another bite. Although Sammy's question was genuine, his expression was playful. God, he hated seeing that smug grin. The guy was so damn pleased with himself for finding out about Dean and Cas all on his own. The smirk faded from Dean's face, as he recalled why they were even here in the first place.

"No, I'm not," Dean spoke gruffly, reaching down to get a polishing rag, "and do you wanna know why, Sam?"

"Oh, God," Sam grumbled, knowing Dean was about to let him have it. Again.

"Because we're headed toward Bobby's house, so that _you_ can collect your precious bet money, you giant ass," Dean narrowed his eyes.

"How many more times am I gonna have to say 'I'm sorry'?" Sam sighed.

"Until I get the ingrained image of Bobby's look of disappointment out of my head," Dean spat, feeling a rock trying to manifest in his gut.

Dean had already convinced himself that Bobby was gonna give him that look; the one a parent wears when they're 'not angry, just disappointed.' How was he going to explain – to the man he'd always looked up to – that he was banging an angel? Or rather, _being_ banged _by_ an angel? A chill ran across Dean's skin, leaving goosebumps. He was dreading the conversation with Bobby more than anything.

"Who said he was going to be disappointed?" Sam asked, more quietly.

Before Dean could voice his very adamant opinion, Sam's cell phone interrupted. The younger Winchester took a deep breath and placed his burger to the side, before reaching into this pocket to retrieve it.

Dean took a deep breath of his own while Sam began talking on the phone. He didn't want the stupid reminder of uncomfortable things to come to kill his current buzz. He took the polishing rag and began to rub the dirt of the barrel of the gun in his hand. Dean glanced sideways at Cas again, who was still standing close by, as he caressed the entire length of metal. The angel couldn't hear his thoughts, but maybe he could read his actions instead. Of course, Cas wasn't good at picking up subtle hints, but Dean was gonna try his damn hardest to get the erotic message across.

"Who is this?" Sam asked to the phone, standing up from the car, "...oh, right, yeah. I remember...that's good. How's business?"

While his little brother talked and began to wander around the on the open gravel, Dean locked eyes with Cas's. He sat on the very edge of the bumper and positioned the butt of the gun between his legs. The man's smirk slowly returned while he stroked the barrel, enjoying the tiny look of confusion on the angel's face. He was kind of being over-dramatic with the stroking; bringing his hand way up to slide it all the way back down, pretending it was an enormous dick.

Once Sam's back was to them, Dean's smirk widened. He gathered a bit of saliva in his mouth, keeping his eyes locked with Cas's baby blues, and spit onto the metal shaft. The confusion instantly melted away from the angel's precious face, leaving stark realization as he watched Dean's hand buffing the barrel of his gun. Oh, yeah. He knew now, what Dean was doing. Dean had finally reeled Cas's mind into the gutter with him. Where it belonged.

They held this stare for a few moments, searching each others' faces while Dean rubbed the gun in an obscene manor. Dean could feel himself getting hard from the simple motion of stroking, even if he wasn't touching an actual body. And it was apparent that it was affecting Cas, too; turning his eyes intense and quickening his breathing.

"You do?...That sounds pretty nice...Yeah, I'm sure Dean and I could come down...where did you say it was?" Sam kept talking, interrupting Dean and Cas's tense stare with his voice and wandering around the space.

Cas's eyes flickered away from Dean's, briefly glancing at Sam before returning his stare. Dean heard the faint sound of music suddenly coming from behind him, inside the Impala. Had the radio just turned on?

"He – hello?" Sam said, "Are you there?...Tom?...Hello?"

Dean's hand slid to an abrupt halt as Sammy turned to give him an odd look.

"I can't hear him," he explained, holding the phone away from his mouth, "the signal is going out or some -"

"Perhaps you should try standing on that hill,"

Dean and Sam both looked toward Cas, who was pointing behind the diner. A few yards away, through the trees, was a large hump of ground. Dean turned his eyes back to Cas, wondering what he was doing. The angel had something up his trench coat sleeve for sure.

"You can acquire better reception there," Cas explained, his tone flat.

Sam glanced back at Dean and shrugged.

"Okay, I'll be right back," he said, starting toward the woods with his giant strides.

Dean watched him go, standing up from the trunk with surprise. Really? Sam was gonna take Cas's advice just like that? He wasn't suspicious at all? Maybe it was an important phone call or something.

Just as the younger brother's back disappeared into the trees, Cas was suddenly at the back of the car with Dean. The angel quickly grabbed something from the trunk, too fast for Dean to see what it was, before slamming it shut. He then grabbed Dean by the arm and spun him around. The man didn't even have time to gasp before Cas shoved him down, pinning his chest to the smooth trunk. The gun fell from Dean's hands with the quick motion and it clacked onto the hard gravel.

Dean blinked several times, feeling his heart start to race. The angel was tugged the back of his pants down, his demanding hands forcing the fabric all the way to his ankles. He could feel cool air suddenly breezing over his exposed ass cheeks. His quickly hardening dick was pressed against the edge of the trunk. A slight panic came over Dean, as he looked up to see the rush of the highway only a few yards beyond the front of the car. What if one of the passing drivers glanced over and saw them like this? What if one of the owners of the diner waltzed outside to take out the trash and saw him bent over the trunk with his ass sticking out?

"Cas," Dean gulped, feeling the angel's fingers brushing against his cheeks as he undid his own pants, "what the hell are you doing?!"

"You were asking for this, Dean," he purred, sounding as determined as ever, "were you not?"

Dean panted, his breath fogging on the black metal. Shit. Yeah, maybe his actions were a bit dirty. But he didn't think Cas would catch on so damn fast. He was just teasing the guy, not telling him to bend him over and drill him beside the highway!

"Cas, I was just -"

Dean's voice caught in his throat as he felt warm liquid being poured between his cheeks. It ran all the way down his crack; dripping from the back of his balls and running down the insides of his legs. Dean felt his own hole clench at the sensation. What the hell was Cas pouring on him? He struggled to look over his shoulder and see, but wasn't flexible enough. Once he was apparently comfortable with the amount of liquid, however, Cas reached forward and sat the jug on the trunk by Dean's face. Dean eyed the ancient container, feeling his face turn pale.

"Holy oil?!" he rasped in shock, "You're using _holy oil_ as _lube_, Cas?!"

Cas didn't reply. Instead, he launched a finger inside Dean's tight opening without warning. Dean groaned a little at it's sudden entry, involuntarily clenching around it. The music in the Impala seemed to turn a little louder at his outburst. How the hell did that thing turn on in the first place? The angel's finger slid quickly in and out of him while a song from the 60's played. With just a few more thrusts of Cas's fingers, Dean could feel him pressing the head of his dick at his hole.

Dean balled his fists against the trunk of his Impala, squeezing his eyes shut as he took the whole erection. Damn, Cas always felt so huge at first. Sensual 'ahhs' were part of the song playing in the background, igniting the air with sexual sounds. Dean let out a small 'mmm,' as Cas began gently sliding in and out of him.

..._and let me try with pleasured hands, to take you in the sun, to promise lands..._

Dean groaned as the song serenaded their sex. Maybe Cas was onto something, when he chose the holy oil. It was probably the best lubricant they had used yet. The angel's hard shaft was easily slipping in and out, pounding with enough force to rock the whole car. Dean braced as best as he could, pressing back into Cas's thrusts. More cars whooshed by on the highway in front of them, briefly drowning out the 'ahh's of the song. But the music kept playing.

..._What's your name?_..._Who's your daddy?_...

Dean's eyes opened at the sound of the erotic question. He'd recently had a dream in which Cas had asked him that very same damn question. And it was as hot as hell.

"Ah, Cas," Dean whimpered, reaching back to touch the angel's tense, moving thigh, "harder."

Cas complied, trusting deeper into him. The car rocked even more fiercely with the rough movement. Dean was loosing himself in the moment; letting go of his fear of prying eyes and giving every part of himself over to Cas. Tiny moans were coming from the angel's mouth, as his hand braced on Dean's back. Dean wanted so badly to flip over and watch him go over the edge; watch his eyes roll back and face tighten. Because he knew Cas was already close, just from the way he was picking up speed.

"Gnah, Dean," Cas groaned, his deep voice rumbling, "you feel...so good."

Dean held in another whimper. God, he loved hearing Cas talk like that. It always seemed to go straight to his cock. Dean's dick was rock hard by now, rubbing against the lower half of the trunk with the angel's every thrust. Both of Cas's hands were suddenly on Dean's hips, his fingertips pressing bruises into Dean's tender flesh. Dean moaned a little while he clung to the trunk. The movement was providing just enough friction for his own cock to feel.

"Ah!" Cas shouted, his voice mixing in with the music, "Dean!"

Dean kept rocking back onto Cas, knowing damn well that the angel was pulsing inside him. Sound of Cas's approval tumbled from his open mouth, his hands clinging to Dean's hips. Dean knew that he, himself, was going to go off at any second. He reached down to stroke himself, his tight fist moving at the speed of light.

"Son-of-a-bitch," Dean moaned, "C – Cas!"

Dean's cock pulsed, shooting semen all over his car's license plate. He was instantly seizing in his orgasm, curling against the trunk. His free hand remained latched to the angel's hip, holding on as tight as he could. Nothing could have gotten him this high, before Cas. No one had the ability to sky-rocket him to an orgasm like Cas could.

Dean carefully let go of his spent dick, relaxing against the trunk. The ancient jug of holy oil blurred in front him as he tried to get his sight to focus. Thoughts carefully returned, making him aware of the fact that he and Cas had just banged it out on the side of the highway in broad daylight. But the strangest part was that Dean didn't care. He chalked it up to the after effects of his orgasm. Nothing mattered when Cas made him feel this good.

Cas's arms were then carefully snaking their way under him, scooping him up from the car. Dean fell back weakly against the angel. He held onto Cas's arms to stay upright.

"Geez," Dean panted, turning his head to meet Cas's eyes, "What...what the hell was that? That came...out of nowhere."

"You said I could have your body any time I want," Cas reminded.

Dean gulped. Oh shit. Had he really said that? A smile slowly returned to his face, though. At least Cas made sure they were alone before banging his brains out...

"I'm...I'm guessing you had something to do with Sam's phone?" Dean assumed.

"Yes," Cas answered, his blue eyes falling to stare at Dean's lips, "I disrupted the reception, though I accidentally turned the radio on as well, by mistake. Wavelengths are difficult to control."

Dean nodded. He could tell Cas was easing closer, wanting to kiss. Dean glanced around, making sure no eyes were watching, before bringing their lips together. He tongued the angel as best he could, turning his arms to do it properly. Kissing Cas was so much better than kissing anyone else. There was so much more to it; so much heat and emotion. What was the secret ingredient, that made it feel so damn good?

Cas hesitantly pulled away, taking gentle breaths. Dean stared at his ocean blue eyes, still feeling loopy from his recent climax. With the raise of the angel's hand, Dean's pants were suddenly back up and buttoned. He glanced down at his lower half, wondering how Cas was able to do that so flawlessly.

"Sam is returning," Cas explained, taking a step back.

Dean tried to act as normal as possible as he turned toward the trees. Only a minute later, Sammy was walking back toward them, looking at his phone. Dean took deliberate breaths, clearing his expression. He tried so hard not to look like he'd just had an amazing orgasm at the hands of the angel beside him. Luckily, Sam seem oblivious.

"Hey, do you remember a guy named Tom Padrino?" he asked, strolling up to the back of the car.

Dean blinked, his mind still fuzzy from sex.

"Uh,...am I supposed to?" he replied.

"You know, big Italian guy? Owns the restaurant just a few miles from here? We helped him deal with that ghost problem a few months ago." Sam reminded.

"Uh, yeah," Dean said, "What about him?"

"He wants us to have lunch with him tomorrow...uh, why is that out?" Sam blurted.

Dean followed his little brother's pointing finger to the trunk, where the old jug of holy oil was sitting. Dean's heart pounded as he met eyes with Cas. The angel looked just as shameful as he did.

"I was...just making room for stuff in the trunk," Dean glossed over, hoping to change the subject, "But you said he wants to have lunch? That's good."

If they had to stick around town, that meant Dean's date with Bobby would be postponed. And Dean was more than willing to put off _that _uncomfortable conversation. Sam nodded.

"Yeah, so should we check into a motel room for the night?" he asked, stepping toward the car doors.

Dean glanced up toward the sky, seeing that it was turning pink-orange with sunset. Man, was it really that close to night already? He gave his brother a nod, and watched him get in the car, before turning to Cas. The angel was placing the holy oil in the trunk, laying it among the guns and knives. Dean smirked.

"I can't believe you used that, Cas," he grinned, "it seems kinda wrong."

"You are probably right," the angel said, shutting the trunk again, "My father would not approve."

A sudden streak of abnormal fear shot through Dean's entire body at the sound of Cas's words. It was one thing if God knew, but something entirely different if _Dean's_ father knew. The image of John Winchester manifested in Dean's mind; one of him wearing a look of angered shock. The look he would most definitely have on if he'd ever found about what Dean was doing with Cas...

_My father would not approve_.

(**Author's Note**: Did you miss me? :) Please do not worry about the end of this chapter, my precious readers. John Winchester is deader than dead in this fic. I just need to use him to make a plot point, that will eventually turn into an obscene amount of fluff later. Just trust me. :) The song I used in this chapter was "The Time of the Season" by The Zombies. What can I say? It's a damn sexy song. :) Sorry this took so long getting out, btw. I was recently introduced to the world of Skyrim. I started playing, then I looked over at the calender and it was July. :) But do not fret! Many more chapters are on the way! I hope you stick around for them! Thanks so much for the reviews on the first two parts of this story, and thanks for reading! You guys are the best. :)

In case you don't already know, this story is part three to my fic, _Solo_. Please feel free to check out the first two parts, if you'd like! They are just as smutty, in case you need some incentive. :) Thanks for reading!)


	2. Chapter 2

(**Author's Note**: Do you know what 'rimming' is? You do? Okay, good. Because there is a little bit of it in this chapter. :) Heads up!)

Castiel met eyes with Dean once more, in the rear-view mirror of the Impala. The angel could sense that something had shifted in the man's demeanor when they left the diner. His happiness seemed to have dimmed. Dean's smile was a bit more forced than usual, when Sam spoke. Castiel knew something was bound to be plaguing him.

"Sounds kinda wheezy," Sam mumbled, patting the dashboard of the vehicle.

Dean's eyes broke away from Castiel's, the green hues flickering forward again as he pulled into a motel parking lot.

"Yeah," he sighed to his brother, "I think she needs an oil change."

Sam nodded, not seeming to notice the tiny croak in his brother's voice. Castiel wondered why he couldn't see Dean's distress. Was he just not paying attention? Or was it possible that Castiel had gotten so close to Dean, that he could sense differences that even Sam could not? The angel turned to look at the side of Dean's face again. He hoped they truly were so close...

After they purchased a room, Castiel accompanied the Winchesters inside, where he watched them do their nightly routine. Cas noticed that Dean was perpetually glancing at him; perhaps making sure he was still there, as if he might disappear without cause. Dean's actions seemed to be less playful than usual; like mechanical motions. He was much more serious now, and made Castiel's stomach ache. He stepped closer to Dean to talk lowly.

"What's the matter, Dean?" Castiel asked, hoping to make him feel better.

Dean leaned to the side, peering around the angel to see his brother standing far across the room. He then leaned back to meet eyes with Castiel. The emeralds seemed burdened with emotion.

"Nothing," he mumbled, tossing a shirt inside his duffel bag.

It seemed that Dean was refusing to let it out; holding all of his deep thoughts and feelings captive inside himself. Castiel was used to this sort of behavior from Dean, who prided himself on being emotionally disciplined. But, perhaps Cas could try to reach the conclusion on his own.

"Do you require physical contact?" the angel guessed, remembering the animalistic urges Dean had recently displayed, "Does your body long to be penetrated again? Are you wishing to be filled with my seed, Dean? I can give it to you..."

A bright shade of red seemed to instantly rise on Dean's face, his green eyes widening. Again, he glanced around Castiel to see his brother.

"Cas," he whispered, sounding embarrassed, "d – don't say shit like that while he's here."

"I mean it, Dean," Castiel continued, placing his hand on the man's soft shoulder, "If you need me to stimulate your anus with my erection -"

"Cas!" he hissed, reaching up to cover the angel's mouth with his hand while his face grew even redder, "shut the hell up!"

As Dean and Castiel stared at each other, they both heard the sound of footsteps heading across the room. The angel saw Dean's wide eyes move behind him; watching Sam walk from one side of the room to the other. Dean's hand remained placed over Cas's mouth, the soft skin of his palm pressing against Cas's lips. The gentle creak of a door opening filled the room, followed by the quiet snap of it closing.

Dean's eyes returned to Cas's, and the angel knew that they were alone. Sam had gone into the bathroom, leaving them to face each other while heat grew inside their stare. Dean's hand slowly left Cas's mouth, gradually falling to lay flat against the angel's chest. Castiel could see the fire attempting to ignite in Dean's eyes; suppressed lust trying to burst forth.

"Do...Do you really have a hard-on right now?" he asked, casually glancing down at the angel's lower half.

"I believe it is in the first stages," Castiel admitted, able to feel blood rushing to fill the organ as they spoke.

Dean's throat quivered as he swallowed, his fingers curling to clutch a handful of Cas's white shirt. The angel's heart rate increased as he noticed they were inching closer; leaning forward to aline their lips. Whatever seemed to have been haunting Dean before was gone now; lost in the sea of arousal taking over his expression. Castiel was glad to see it go. There was nothing he enjoyed more than having Dean in a constant state of happiness.

Their mouths finally met; tongues instantly embracing like lovers kept apart for too long. Castiel hummed in Dean's mouth as he reached up to tug him closer; cradling his warm body against his vessel's. Dean quickened in response, roughly raking his fingers through Cas's hair while he clutched the back of his head. The angel could feel his erection growing between his legs with the actions; begging to driven inside Dean's body as soon as possible.

The soft creak of the door interrupted the silence again.

Dean nearly instantly ripped himself from Castiel's gasp. He stepped back, panting while his green eyes flashed toward the motel bathroom. Fear of discovery was evident on his face. Castiel blinked, looking from Dean's worried face to watch Sam exit the bathroom in utter ignorance. Sam already knew of their relationship, but did it still bother Dean to be seen in an intimate moment?

Sam looked up to see them breathing heavily with darkened lips. Realization was quick to fall over his face. Sam knew that they had just kissed, no matter how much Dean seemed to be trying to hide it.

"Hey, don't molest the angel while I'm here, alright?" he smirked.

The fear slowly vanished from Dean's face at his brother's odd request. A genuine smile appeared on his tender lips again.

"You should be more worried about _him_ molesting _me_," he answered, giving Cas a small wink.

Castiel felt relieved to finally see the sheer happiness return to Dean. Though he still wasn't entirely sure what had caused Dean to become upset, the angel attempted to shrug it off in the same way Dean did. He was happy now, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

Castiel watched over the Winchesters all night, as they slept peacefully. Neither of them seemed to stir very much. Dawn slowly approached in the morning hours, steadily illuminating the room with warm sunlight. The angel continually glanced along Dean's sleeping form; studying each fragment of his creation – every perfectly placed freckle, every tiny hair follicle – marveling at his mere existence once again. He was glad he had time like this, in which he could just be close to Dean, even when he slept.

Sam was the first to wake. The younger Winchester yawned and stumbled out of bed, heading for the bathroom. He returned only a few moments later, dressed and prepared for the day. Castiel continued to sit at Dean's side, patiently waiting for him to wake up, too. After tossing on a jacket, Sam turned his attention toward the angel by the far wall.

"Hey, Cas," he said quietly, "can you help me real quick?"

Castiel cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter in the chair, glancing down at Dean.

"With what?" he asked, not really wanting to leave Dean's side.

"I'm gonna change the oil in the car, and I thought maybe you could lift up the front for me, so I could crawl under the hood," he explained.

Castiel took a deep breath. He had been secretly hoping to be the first thing Dean saw when he woke up; to remind him that he wasn't going anywhere. But, the Impala was just right outside. If Sam only needed him for a quick job, then he supposed he could help.

"Okay," Cas agreed, hesitantly standing up to follow Sam out the door.

The sun was bright outside, casting warm rays onto the shiny Impala. The car sat across the parking lot, facing the road. Castiel followed Sam to the front of the vehicle while he glanced back at the building behind them. He hoped Dean would remain asleep until he returned. Sam retrieved a few things from inside the car, before leading the way to the hood.

"Just lift her up," he instructed, "it should only take me a few minutes. Can hold it that long?"

"Yes," he sighed, uninterested.

Castiel lifted the bumper of the car, raising both front tires off the ground. Sam gave him a brief look, slightly impressed, before getting down to slide under the hood. The angel took another deep breath, while he glanced around the parking lot. He didn't mind helping Sam, of course, but being away from Dean was starting to eat at him. They had hardly been apart these last few days, and Castiel had become accustomed to being near Dean at all times.

As Sam did his work under the car, Dean's voice suddenly lit up in Cas's mind like a beacon -

_Cas,_

Castiel looked across the parking lot, zooming in on the motel door that housed his favorite human. Dean had apparently woken up from his slumber, just as Castiel did not want to happen. And now he was praying; calling out from the motel room.

_Cas? Where'd you go?_

The angel felt terrible instantly. He looked down at Sam's feet sticking out from under the car. Castiel couldn't sit the car back down without crushing Sam, even though he wanted to get back to the motel room. How long was it going to take him to change the oil? Castiel stared at the motel door, wishing that prayer worked both ways.

_Looks like I'm all alone, here...Sam's gone, too..._

Dean's words did not sound as woeful as Castiel expected. In fact, they sounded a bit...lustful. He was purring rather than praying; using an enticing tone. Was he not upset about waking up alone? What kind of mood was he in? Castiel kept listening.

_Well, I guess it's just me_, Dean sighed, _just me...and my hard cock... _

Castiel's mouth fell open at the sound of Dean's vulgar comment. Did Dean truly have an erection? Castiel could almost picture it; the man laid out on the bed, staring down at the hard organ protruding from his underwear...perhaps stroking it teasingly...Castiel could feel an erection forming in his own pants at the thought.

_What was that you said last night, Cas?_ Dean continued, his sleepy voice seductive, _You wanted to spread some seed?...Well, the pasture is open, cowboy. Get over here and do some plowing..._

The angel began to pant, feeling his body reacting to Dean's rugged prayer. He was definitely wanting sex now; practically giving Castiel a mating call. The angel looked down at Sam's feet again.

"Sam," Castiel croaked, wanting to return to Dean, "get out from under there."

_Come on, Mighty Mouse,_ Dean's voice caressed Castiel's mind like a fine silk, _I'm ready for your pearly white stuff, now. All sticky and warm,...Do you want me to loosen up for you? Here, lemme just roll over..._

Castiel picture this, too; Dean rolling over to jut his hips in the air, reaching a hand back to slide a finger inside himself – The angel's heart raced.

"Sam!" Castiel repeated, more frantic than before.

"What?" Sam called, his voice muffled under the car.

"Please get out from under there, Sam," Cas asked, feeling his erection throbbing with urgency.

_Man, my ass is so tight,_ Dean's voice hummed, _My finger barely fits in there. How do you keep stuffing that gigantic angel cock in there all the damn time? No wonder I can't sit comfortably...hold on,...Ah,...that's better,...gnah,...yeah..._

Castiel couldn't handle Dean's lustful prayer any longer. Shifting the weight of the car to one hand, the angel reached down to grab Sam's foot. He yanked the younger Winchester out from under the car, sliding him far across the pavement, before dropping the Impala back on it's wheels. With the sounds of Sam's disgruntled shock echoing behind him, Castiel flew back into the motel room.

The angel landed beside Dean's bed – and his eyes fell upon the loveliest sight.

Dean was almost exactly the way he'd pictured him in his mind. The man was on his knees, the side of his face pressed to the bed while his hips remained bent up in the air; his underwear around his knees and shirt slid up his back to reveal the largest part of his body. His tender buttocks was on full display, with the halves spread enough to expose the dark-pink hole. His scrotum hung heavily between his legs, appearing to repeatedly tense. He did, in fact, have an erection. It was rubbing against his lower stomach with the awkward angle. The entire sight nearly took Castiel's breath away.

Dean's head titled toward Cas slightly, meeting his eyes while he traced the ring of his opening with his own finger. Castiel could feel his own erection pressing firmly against his pants.

"It's about time, Farmer Brown," Dean grinned, rocking his hips toward Castiel, "are you ready to start sowin' seeds or what?"

Dismissing Dean's odd nicknames, Castiel stepped forward. He stretched out his hand, gently touching one of the man's pale cheeks. He rubbed his fingertips along the entire soft area, causing goosebumps to rise on the skin. Cas enjoy the small sensation, memorizing the smooth texture. Dean seemed to approve, rocking back a little more.

"You feel so good, Dean," Castiel commented.

"I taste even better," Dean replied, his devilish smirk growing.

Dean's words made the angel curious to know; what _did_ the rest of Dean's body taste like? Cas blinked, setting his eyes on the tender spot between the man's cheeks. Using both hands, Castiel carefully spread the plump halves farther apart. Heat radiated from the entrance, shooting jolts of arousal to Cas's erection. With his curiosity peeked, Castiel poked his firm tongue out of his mouth and traced the tip around the ridged ring.

"Ah," Dean groaned, lifting his head a little, "What...what are you - ?"

His question got lost in his throat, as Castiel prodded the wet muscle against the center; licking and tasting the sensitive hole. The muscle flexed around Cas's tongue at it's abnormal entry. The angel's erection throbbed more fiercely, still begging to be released. But he wanted to pleasure Dean for as long as he could, because the man seemed to be enjoying this very much.

"That – that is so much better...than I thought it would be,...ah," Dean whimpered, reaching back to rake a hand through Cas's hair.

Castiel flicked his tongue against the ring of muscle, indulging in the moist, bodily flavor. Dean's entrance continued to contract, gradually loosening. Dean rocked back onto it, holding down moans and cries.

"Son of a bitch," he panted, "put the damn thing in."

Castiel slurped his tongue back into his mouth instantly, standing back up straight. He, at last, tugged his erection free and lined it up with Dean's dripping wet hole. Noises of approval seemed to tumble from both of them, as Castiel carefully slid inside Dean. The angel was thrusting before he knew it; savoring the coursing pleasure emanating from his pelvis. Dean climbed to his hands and knees, aiding Cas's movement.

"Ah," Castiel groaned, feeling close to climax already, "D – Dean."

Dean hummed, reaching back to place his hand over one of Cas's on his hip. Castiel thrust even harder, hammering into the man with enough force to shake the bed. Dean approved, backing against the angel's large shaft. Castiel felt extremely close to the edge. He focused on Dean's jiggling cheeks, watching his own stiff organ sliding quickly in and out of him -

Orgasm pulsed through Castiel like a whirlwind, clouding his mind and causing his body to shudder. His moans echoed throughout the room, mixing with Dean's. He was releasing inside Dean before he could stop it; feeling his scrotum tensing to ejaculate. He clung to Dean's hips in the fog of bliss, becoming overwhelmed with sensation.

"Gnah, yes!" Dean groaned.

Castiel attempted to blink his sight back into focus. He knew Dean was climaxing now, from the way his back was curving and his hand was stroking feverishly. Cas could feel it internally as well, all of his reproductive organs convulsing against the angel's erection. The angel adored hearing the sounds of lust fall from Dean's mouth while he rose to orgasm.

After splattering the bed with semen, Dean eased back against Castiel. The angel took him in his arms at once, cradling his weak body against his chest. Both of them panted for a moment, trying to regroup from their amazingly effective intercourse.

"I...I knew you'd come running," Dean mused, his unfocused emerald eyes only half open.

"You were...very persuasive," Castiel agreed, his cheek rubbing against Dean's sweaty temple as he nodded.

Dean turned his head to look at Castiel properly. The angel was momentarily captured by the phenomenal shade of green; hypnotized by the vibrancy of Dean's eyes. The man stretched his neck to bring their mouths together. Castiel swirled his tongue around Deans only briefly, before Dean pulled away.

"You taste like ass," he chuckled, smacking his lips together.

Castiel was unsure of how to reply to this statement. Should he apologize? Agree?

"Um,...okay," he finally said.

"Where did you go just now, Cas?" Dean asked, turning semi-serious.

Castiel's eyes widened as Sam came back to mind. Oh, no. The younger Winchester was not going to be happy about this. Castiel carefully slid out of Dean, reaching down to tuck himself away. Dean winced a little at the sudden removal, but then stumbled off the bed to face the angel.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Sam," Cas replied, starting for the door, "I left him outside."

Dean followed Castiel to the motel door, where he opened it to peek outside. Across the parking lot, Sam was standing by the Impala – and was doused in motor oil. Shame manifested in Cas's gut as he saw Sam's hair and clothes were completely covered in the brown goo. He was uninjured, of course, but had apparently been ripped from his work too soon.

"What the hell did you do?" Dean whispered fearfully.

At the sound of Dean's voice, Sam's head snapped toward them. Anger flashed on his dirty face, eyes lighting up with raw fury. He glared at Castiel while he threw a filthy rag from his hand onto the ground. The angel was frozen in place by shame and embarrassment, holding onto the motel door. How was he ever going to apologize to Sam for this?

Dean gulped beside Castiel as he, too, was under Sam's angered glare. The man carefully tugged the handle from out of the angel's grip, and gently closed the door.

(**Author's Note**: My apologies if this chapter was weird. I just wanted to throw in a little "dirty prayer" talk. :) Also, do these chapters sound long-winded to you? Cause, if they do, I can totally trim them down. I hate dragging out a story longer than it needs to be. Let me know. :) Farmer Brown? Mighty Mouse? I have no explanation for these nicknames, but I like them and I hope you do, too. :) Thank you guys so, so, so much for the reviews on the first chapter! I know you've heard, er, _read_ this before, but you guys are keeping me afloat with all the wonderful things you say. Thank you guys so much, especially those who review every single chapter. Here, have a chunk of my heart. :) There's still plenty more chapters to come! Stay tuned!)


	3. Chapter 3

"Sam," Cas sighed, for the hundredth time, "I have already stated the depth of my apologies many times -"

"I don't want to hear it," Sam snapped, shooting the angel a glare over the seat, "Do you know how hard it is to wash motor oil out of your hair, Cas? I don't freakin' think so. I stood in the shower for over an hour, man! I was wrinklier than Larry King in the middle of July by the time I got out of there."

"I offered to help cleanse you," Cas reminded, setting his frustrated blue eyes on the back of Sam's head, "but you refused to let me, in case you forgot."

"Oh, I didn't forget," Sam gave a hard chuckle, "I know what you were doing with those 'healing hands' just before you and Dean poked your heads out of the room -"

"Enough!" Dean finally shouted, briefly looking away from the road to glance at his brother beside him, "We get it, Sam. You're pissed. But, can you please stow your crap long enough to get through this stupid lunch?"

Dean's little brother inhaled and exhaled audibly, narrowing his eyes at Dean's request. Dean returned his sight to the road in front of him, watching the double lines curve with the pavement. Yeah, he could understand Sam's frustration, especially when it came to being screwed over. But he didn't like hearing Sam bitching at Cas for it. If anything, Dean felt he, himself, deserved to be the target of Sam's anger. It was his fault for making those prayers too damn hot for Cas to resist.

After a few minutes of silent tension, they finally arrived at Tom Padrino's Italian restaurant. Dean pulled his Impala into the parking lot, noticing that most of the spots were filled. He met eyes with Cas in the rear view mirror as he parked the car at the end of the long row of vehicles.

As much as Sam was upset with him, Cas seemed to be okay. His blue eyes still blossomed with affectionate care every time they fell upon Dean – just like they were right now. And Dean loved being looked at like that; like Cas thought he was the most important thing in the world. The man smirked a little, as he turned off the engine. For a moment, as he got lost in the angel's eyes, he almost believed it...

"The angel stays in the car,"

Dean blinked himself out of Cas's stare, turning his head to look at his brother incredulously.

"What?" he asked, lost.

Sam looked defiant, giving Dean the most serious look ever. He was obviously not going to let go of the 'oil incident.' Dean's little brother shook his head as he opened his door.

"I'm not going to put up with you two playing pocket-pool and whispering sweet nothings in front of a possible mafia member," he warned, actual fear hinting in his face, "Pretty sure there's a cement truck out back and I'm not taking chances."

"We're here to eat lunch, not impress the mob," Dean spat, angered at the thought of leaving Cas all alone in the car, "What? You think we don't have self control, Sam?"

"Judging by the way Cas literally drops everything and flies to you every time you make a booty call, I'd say no," Sam replied, his tone flat, "You two can be apart for one lunch, Dean. You owe me at least that much."

Dean's jaw locked into place. God, Sam could be so critical when he was pissed. But, as strong as his words were, the tall bastard had a point. If Cas was sitting next to him – all suited up and lusty eyed with that serious look on his pretty face – it would only be a matter of time before Dean couldn't resist touching him. The man glanced in the backseat, where the angel was listening attentively to the conversation. An ache formed in his chest.

"Fine," Dean forced himself to say, feeling terrible, "Go get the damn table. I'll meet you inside."

Sam breathed a sigh of relief as he pushed the car door open. The two brothers both exited the car together, though Dean lingered behind. Sam went on ahead, straightening out his jacket while he strode to the restaurant entrance. Dean watched him go while he edged toward the back passenger-side door.

He made sure Sam was completely inside the building before bracing his hands on the open window and leaning down to look inside the the car. Cas was close to the window, turned in his seat and looking up at Dean with those big, puppy eyes. Dammit, they made Dean feel so guilty.

"I'm sorry," Dean said quietly, feeling like an asshole.

"Please do not apologize, Dean," Cas said, bracing his own hands against the door, "the last thing I would ever want to do is cause a rift between you and your brother. I know how much he means to you."

Dean gulped, feeling a strange tingle in his chest. There it was again; that intense feeling that stuck him like lightening at Cas's simple statements. Cas was so giving and caring and honest. There weren't many times in Dean's life that he was offered this much kindness...

The man's hand slid over to rest on top of Cas's. He quickly scanned the parking lot, making sure there was no one around, before leaning in to plant his lips to the angel's. Dean's eyes closed as he softly kissed Cas, his chest tight with emotion. Why the hell were his insides in knots? How was it possible to feel this much, with just a small kiss?

Dean pulled back a little, frightened of the deep emotion trying to take root behind his ribs. He rested his forehead against Cas's, unable to look anywhere but into the giant oceans of his eyes.

"Maybe you should just come inside," he whispered.

"It's okay, Dean," Cas assured, rubbing his thumb over the back of Dean's hand, "I'll wait here. Just go."

Dean took a deep breath of the angel's scent. Cas was right. He needed to go in there and just get it over with. With one last squeeze on Cas's hand, Dean stood back up from the car and stepped away. The knots in his stomach tightened more and more as the distance stretched on between them. For God's sake, he was just going to be in the parking lot, right? Why did it feel so bad to be away from Cas like this?

While Dean questioned his own emotional state, he swept his way inside the Italian restaurant. The smell of fresh baked garlic bread hit him in the doorway as he scanned the room. Waiters and Waitresses were dressed in cheap, Italian bow ties and aprons, bustling around with plates and drinks. Every table was dressed with a long, white sheet that touched the floor; classy chairs all around. Fake plants were strategically placed around the room, adding a certain Tuscan flair. Over all, it was a nice setting to stuff your face in.

Dean spotted Sam sitting on the left, at a table by himself. There were already drinks on the table, both water with lemon wedges on the glass rims. Sam turned to look up at Dean, as he made his way over to sit next to him. A smirk spread on his mouth.

"I already ordered for you," he grinned, "have a seat."

Dean had to lift the table cloth to slide up to the table. It draped down over his lap like a heavy blanket.

"Where is this guy?" Dean asked, looking around, "let's get this freak show on the road."

"Chill, Dean. Cas isn't going anywhere," Sam said, "Let's just enjoy this free meal before we go to Bobby's."

The mention of Bobby instantly made Dean's heart pound. Aw, shit. He'd forgotten about having to tell Bobby about all this. Dean grabbed his glass of water and took a few gulps, trying to wash down the feeling of discomfort.

"There they are!"

Dean and Sam both looked up to see a familiar heavy-set man making his way over to them. His thin mustache curved with his smiling lips and his plump cheeks squinted his eyes. Dean remembered, now, helping his guy out, because he reminded him of the stay-puff marshmallow man.

"Winchestas," he rejoiced in his thick accent, sitting in the seat opposite them, "I'm so happy to see ya smilin' faces! How's business, boys?"

Just as Dean opened his mouth to answer, a waitress sat a plate down in front of him. Dean's eyes fell to look at his own lunch. A long, thick Italian sausage laid across the whole thing, with a giant meatball sitting on each side. It looked exactly like a cock and balls. Dean turned to glare at Sam, who was struggling to hold in a laugh.

"Real subtle," Dean grumbled, unrolling his silver wear.

"Ah, ya gonna love that dish, my friend," Tom said, giving Dean a wink, "it's the best sausage on dis side da the pond."

"I'm sure Dean can tell, sir. He's quite the sausage expert," Sam grinned, taking a sip from his glass.

Dean stiffed a gruff sigh, squinting at Sam with the fork tight in his grasp. How many more dick jokes was Sam gonna make during lunch? This was obviously pay back for whatever the hell they'd done to piss him off. Dean turned his attention to the sexual innuendo on the plate in front of him, while Tom and Sam engaged in conversation.

Just as Dean brought the fork down to slice into the meat, he felt something brush against his legs. The man's eyes widened, flashing up to look between his brother and the Italian man. Did one of them kick him? Was Sam playing footsie? Both of them looked deep in conversation.

Dean felt the distinct sensation of a hand clutching his thigh.

The immediate thought that first triggered in Dean's mind was danger. Like Sam had said before, Tom was a possible member of the mafia. Was someone under the table trying to harm them? Dean quickly and carefully retrieved the gun he kept hidden in his waist band, watching Sam and Tom to make sure they couldn't see it. He shoved his entire hand under the long table cloth, aiming his weapon in the direction of the person hiding there.

But, the gun was ripped from his hand instantly, leaving him grasping at the air. A slight panic came over Dean, as he glanced between the two other men at the table. Could they not feel the person there, too? Just as Dean was getting ready to lean over and tell Sammy, he felt a hand take his own. Two moist forms were suddenly pressing against his palm – two lips peppering it with kisses.

Dean gulped at the sensation, picturing Cas curled up under the table kissing his hand with gentle affection. Was it really him, hiding there?

"Cas?" Dean whispered, too low for anyone else to hear.

Dean's hand was suddenly placed against a soft cheek. The head nodded against his palm, still planting kisses on the edge of his thumb. Dean's heart picked up speed at this news. What the hell was Cas doing under the table? Why didn't he come in through the front door? Dean's questions were answered, when he felt the angel's hands suddenly undoing his belt...

"- and my da'lin' Maria likes to send 'em postcards from Italy," Tom continued, "I tell ya, I love hearin' about those good 'ol fishin' trips. Like I said before -"

Sweat was beginning to collect on Dean's forehead, as he felt himself being exposed under the table. He tried to tug at Cas's coat collar – trying to somehow send a message that this was wrong – but there was no stopping the angel. Dean had a better chance getting Sam to cut his hair, than to ever stop Cas from doing what he wanted...and, to be honest, Dean didn't really want him to stop, anyway.

Dean's dick was suddenly inside something warm and wet. He knew it was Cas's mouth, just from the wiggle of the tongue on the underside of his cock. The man held down a noise at the feeling, his fingers sliding around to tangle in the angel's soft hair. His eyes flashed from Tom to Sam, who were both completely oblivious to the blow job taking place at their feet.

"Dean likes sports. He likes anything that has to do with balls, right Dean?" Sam asked his smug grin only spreading.

Dean didn't quite comprehend the question. He was too preoccupied with the mouth sucking on his cock to care, either.

"Yeah," he answered, sounding like an erotic sigh.

Sam chuckled a little, before turning the conversation toward a different subject. Dean blinked, his exposed hand clutching the fork tighter. Cas's mouth was sliding all the way up and down the length of his dick, the end of his growing erection rubbing against the angel's tonsils. How was Cas not choking? How was Cas taking all of him without so much as a cough? His throat was even contracting, like he was trying to swallow Dean whole.

"Mmm," Dean sighed, closing his eyes, "shit."

"What?"

Dean's eyes flew open to look at Sam, who was raising an eyebrow in question. Dean gulped, noticing that his breathing was getting heavier.

"N – nothing," Dean said, tightening his hand on the back of Cas's head, "Uh,...g – go on. You were saying?"

Though Sam seemed little thrown off, he picked up the conversation again. Dean was glad for the distraction. He let go of the fork and brought his hand up to brace against his mouth, trying to stop the moans from escaping. Dammit, Cas was so good at this; massaging Dean's sack while his mouth quickened speed. Dean had never had a blow job this good, let alone received one under the table in the middle of a meal.

Dean's heart raced, fueling the tense erection sliding in and out of Cas's mouth. He could feel an orgasm rapidly approaching; making him want to thrust his hips while he tried to control his breathing. Good God, Cas was sucking so hard; using his tongue to tease the head with each retraction while he kneaded Dean's tense sack. Dean could feel his balls already seizing up, preparing for launch. Oh, shit, this wasn't going to take long...

Dean clutched a handful of Cas's soft hair, feeling it raise and fall with the angel's moving mouth. He could feel it coming like a gigantic wind; a steady breeze turning into a massive hurricane -

"But, afta my wife passed on, to dat big, beautiful place in da sky," Tom sighed, slightly hanging his head in sadness, "I swore I was neva gonna love again."

"Ah!" Dean groaned, clenching his eyes shut as he bit into his own knuckle, "Y – Yeah!"

Dean felt himself flooding Cas's mouth, pulsing against the back of the angel's throat. Bliss draped over the man's mind, turning his thoughts fuzzy while he slightly rocked his hips. Holy shit, he'd never felt so good in his life. Cas was one talented son of a bitch.

The man blinked his eyes open, panting. Slight horror fell over him, as he saw Tom and Sam, and some neighboring costumers, giving him looks of bewilderment. Dean instantly cleared his throat, sitting up a little straighter as he reached for his glass of water.

"I – I mean, uh, that's – that's terrible," he panted, trembling as he took a large gulp.

"Say, uh, you okay, kid?" Tom asked, "you look a little red in da face."

Dean nodded, the water shaking in his glass as he sat it back on the table. Cas was still lapping at his softening dick under the table, licking slow lines along the shaft. Dean tried his best to hide his physical reactions.

"I'm okay. Are you ready to go, Sammy?" he asked, turning to look at his brother, "We've got somewhere to be, don't we? Spain? Jupiter?"

"Bobby's?" Sam offered, looking confused.

"Yeah," Dean nodded, "let's hit the road."

"Lemme walk you guys to the door," Tom said, getting to his feet, "I'll getcha each a cannoli, my treat."

Dean remained seated, while his brother stood up from the table.

"You go on ahead," Dean pushed, "I'm – I'm, just gonna take a quick leak. I'll meet you at the car."

Though Sam was definitely confused, he did as Dean asked, following big Tom toward the front of the restaurant. As soon as they were gone, Dean carefully lifted up the long table cloth. Cas was, indeed, kneeling on the floor between his knees. The angel's lips were darkened, but his eyes were still the perfect shade of blue Dean adored. The bright orbs stared up at him, as a smile spread across his face.

"How was it Dean?" he purred.

"Perfect," Dean whispered, reaching down to stroke the side of the angel's soft face.

Cas nuzzled deeper into it, looking up at Dean like a work of art. Man, he wanted to kiss those pink lips so bad...

"Meet me outside," Dean whispered.

Cas gave a single nod and disappeared completely from under the table. Once alone, Dean slowly dropped the table cloth and looked around the restaurant. Some people were still sending glances of bewilderment his way, probably wondering why he was talking toward his crotch. But he didn't care.

All he cared about was the meeting he was getting ready to have with Cas outside.

(**Author's Note**: Did I really set up an entire lunch meeting, just so Dean could get a blow job under the table? Of course I did! :) What else are restaurants for? _LeeMarieJack_, I hope you don't mind that I stole your 'booty call' reference from the reviews. And I hope you all enjoyed Sammy's little bit of pay back; all those cheap-shot dick jokes. Ah, I really loved writing this chapter. :) Thank you guys, for all your continued reviews! I'm glad I can brighten your day as much as you brighten mine. :) There is still more story to come! Chapter four will be out soon.)


	4. Chapter 4

Dean's heart was racing, still sending electric jolts toward his crotch, as he staggered around the Italian restaurant. He was trying to find an exit, but his mind was kind of blurry from the amazing blow job Cas had just given him. Where the hell did that angel learn how to suck cock like a porn star? And how did he take the whole thing without choking?

As Dean pondered the wonder of Cas's skills, he finally spotted a door near the back of the room. He glanced around, making sure no one was watching, before shoving his way outside. He was suddenly standing in an tight alleyway, between the restaurant and another tall building. Cars rushed by at the end of the alley to his right and a chain-link fence barricaded the end to the left. The long space was fairly lit, too, having the noon sun almost directly overhead. Dean scanned the tiny alley, his lungs straining to keep up with his heart.

"Cas," he almost croaked, his voice echoing up the brick buildings, "Where are you?"

A hand fell on Dean's shoulder. The man was spun around and shoved against one of the brick walls before he even had time to gasp. Two heavenly, giant blue eyes were suddenly staring him in the face. Cas was nearly glowing in the sunlight as he pawed at the front of Dean's clothes, mouth open and breathing harshly. Dean swallowed hard at the sight of pure arousal on Cas's face. Damn, he looked fiercely horny. And the sight made Dean's dick twitch.

"I'm here," the angel nearly groaned, pressing their fronts together, "I waited for you."

Dean couldn't hold back. His mouth instantly lunged forward, meeting Cas's with a clash of teeth. A small whimper slipped from the back of Dean's throat, vibrating their kiss. Oh God, that feeling was so strong in his chest, now. It felt like his heart was swelling behind his ribs; ballooning with raw emotion. It was pulsing through his veins like warm whiskey; numbing his limbs and dulling his thoughts. And he loved it. Whatever the hell this feeling was, Dean didn't want it to go away.

"Mmm, Cas," Dean whimpered, tugging at the angel's trench coat.

Just saying his damn name made Dean's heart inflate. Cas's lips moved from the man's mouth to his neck, planing kisses all over the edge of his jaw. Their hands were all over each other; caressing and groping and pulling at clothes. Dean felt that Cas's dick was already hard against his pants. Maybe he'd been hard the whole time he was giving that damn good blow job under the table.

Dean panted, enjoying the feeling of Cas sucking lightly on the side of his tense neck. He combed his fingers up the back of Cas's head, knotting his hand in the angel's velvet hair. The emotion was so huge inside him; making him feel on the verge of exploding. Words were pressing at the back of his throat, like a rocket preparing for launch -

A door opened at the end of the alley.

Dean blinked toward it, not fully comprehending that someone was walking outside. He was still enveloped in Cas's hot embrace and vaguely lost inside the emotion the angel gave him. But he slowly realized that it was a person; a waiter from inside the restaurant. There was a bag of trash in one of his hands and a pizza box in the other. Just as the man rounded the open door, he and Dean met eyes.

A look of surprise and horror flashed on the dude's face, his jaw falling open and his eyes widening. Dean found that once their eyes were locked, he couldn't look away from the guy. He was frozen in shock and shame, while he stood groping Cas and the angel sucked his neck black and blue. And it was this extremely uncomfortable stare that shot Dean back to that terrible notion...

_My father would not approve._

A brief memory suddenly flashed in Dean's mind, of his father handing him his first shoebox full of dirty magazines. Vintage issues of Playboy, covered in female body parts that Dean never had the nerve to fully look at before. He was twelve years old. The pride on his father's face was unforgettable; almost the same joy he had when he gave Dean his first gun. _Study up, son,_ he said, his grin full of authority, _you're gonna be one helluva lady's man one day. Make your old man proud._

Staring at the man near the end of the alley, Dean once again pictured his own father's face wearing a similar expression. One of shock and anger, hinted with betrayal. What would John say, if he saw Dean in the arms of an angel like this? How fast would his hands ball into fists? Which profanity would fly out of his mouth first?

Fear shook the very foundation of Dean's being at the mere thought of John's reaction to his relationship with Cas.

Dean's heart pounded in his ears, as the waiter tossed the trash in the dumpster and retreated back into the restaurant. He felt like escaping; trying to run away from this sickening twinge growing in his gut. His hands were no longer holding onto Cas, but trying to push him away instead.

"Cas," he said gruffly, "stop."

* * *

Castiel didn't quite hear the word at the end of Dean's sentence. He assumed that it was an affectionate noise and continued softly nipping at his neck, enjoying the salty taste of his skin. The angel felt the urge to penetrate Dean growing in his pelvis. He was thoroughly looking forward to intercourse.

"Cas," Dean repeated, his hands pressing flat to Cas's chest.

Again, Castiel took this as a good sign. Dean always seemed to repeat his name when he received physical pleasure from him. Castiel deepened their embrace, tugging the man even closer as he flicked his tongue against his neck.

"Cas!"

Dean shoved Castiel away, causing him to stumble backward. The angel blinked as he took a few steps back, attempting to understand what had just happened. Dean was braced against the building, his tense shoulders rising and falling with his heavy breathing. His jaw was set and his eyes held a peculiar mix of anger and fear.

"I said stop!" Dean nearly shouted, his voice echoing through the alley.

Guilt instantly clouded inside Castiel. He hadn't heard Dean say the word 'stop' before. Did he accidentally hurt Dean? Had he held him too tight? Kissed him too hard?

"F – Forgive me," the angel said, still a bit confused.

Dean panted, staring at Castiel with intense emotion. The man didn't seem to feel any better with this statement. His brute posture didn't relax in the least. What could Cas do to remedy the situation? Should he attempt to verbally apologize again? What had he done to cause Dean such distress?

Before Castiel was able to say anything, however, Dean was suddenly stomping away. The angel followed him immediately as he stormed out of the alleyway and into the parking lot. The physical excitement fled Cas's body; the erection between his legs dying. The sudden shift in Dean's emotion left him to wonder what he'd done wrong. As badly as he wanted to ask, it appeared that Dean was too upset to socialize. The last thing Castiel wanted to do was make him feel worse...

Dean climbed instantly into his car, where Sam was already seated in the passenger seat. Castiel joined them, cautiously sitting in the backseat and shutting the door quietly. Sam, who had a mouth full of food, offered a pastry toward his brother.

"You've gotta try one of these things," he grinned, voice muffled by food, "they're amazing. And look, Tom gave us a whole basket."

"I don't want the damn cannoli," Dean growled, aggressively starting the engine.

Sam seemed to realize the change in Dean's demeanor instantly. The younger Winchester flashed a glance to Castiel over the seat, raising an eyebrow in question. The angel sighed and looked away, bringing his sight to rest on the scenery moving beyond his window. He didn't know how to reply Sam's unasked question, because he didn't know the answer either.

For close to an hour, the Impala was uncomfortably silent. Castiel found himself constantly glancing at the side of Dean's face, as his mind replayed the scene from the alley over and over. He truly wished to know what he'd done wrong. Had he hurt Dean? If so, why didn't the man just tell him instead of pushing him away with such anger? Castiel believed they had been steadily growing closer, in both physical and emotional areas, but had he been wrong? Had they reached a certain limit in their relationship? As much as Castiel craved to ask, he remained quiet; afraid it would cause Dean more pain.

As the Impala pulled in front of Bobby's house, Castiel stole another glance at Dean. He saw that the man's face had relaxed a bit from their time on the road. Perhaps there was a healing power in driving that helped Dean cope with his emotions. Castiel lingered behind, as Dean and Sam walked to Bobby's front door. The younger Winchester was still glancing between the angel and his brother with a look of slight confusion. Dean was still looking anywhere but at Castiel...and it made the angel's heart ache.

After knocking repeatedly with no reply, Sam decided to call Bobby's cell phone. He engaged in a small chat with him, asking about the front door, before saying farewells and hanging up.

"He said to go on in and make ourselves at home," Sam explained, leading the way inside.

"What? He's not here?" Dean asked, tossing his keys on the kitchen counter.

Again, Castiel lingered behind. He edged his way over to the kitchen table, turning his back to the brothers and peering out of the window. He continued to listen to Sam and Dean, even though he was turned away.

"No," Sam sighed, "he said he won't be back until tomorrow, but to wait here for him."

There was a small silence, in which Castiel knew Sam was probably attempting to figure out why there seemed to be an invisible wall between Dean and the angel. Castiel prayed he would ask Dean, hoping to hear the answer for himself. And soon enough...

"Hey, what happened?" Sam whispered, apparently speaking toward Dean only.

"Nothing," Dean replied, also in a whisper, "just...it's personal."

Castiel could hear that the anger had melted away from Dean's voice. He sounded calm now, and perhaps a bit more open. The angel was glad to know he was feeling better. Perhaps Sam played a role in his healing process as well.

"Well, uh, maybe you two should talk things out," Sam suggested, still quiet, "it's weird seeing you guys so...distant."

Cas agreed with Sam's statement. He disliked the distance just as much. Dean sighed. There was another short silence, before the sound of keys caught Castiel's attention. He turned around quickly, fearing that Dean was leaving. But it was Sam, who was jingling the keys in his hand. He smiled, looking between Dean and Cas as he backed toward the door.

"I think I'll go shoot some pool at the bar in town," he said, smirking, "Probably won't be back until the early hours of the morning, you know how it is..." he paused in the doorway to give Dean a wink, "Looks like you've got the whole house to yourselves tonight."

There seemed to be a suggestive look on Sam's face as he backed completely out of the doorway. After the soft snap of the door closing, Castiel leaned against the kitchen table; bracing a hand on the hard wood as he dropped his eyes to the floor. It was nice of Sam to offer them a place to be alone together, like this. But it was obvious that nothing intimate was going to be taking place. Not after what happened in the alley...

The sound of gentle footsteps caught Castiel's attention. He slowly raised his head to see Dean carefully making his way toward him. The man's eyes were on the floor – and seemed overwhelmingly apologetic. He looked guilty; walking like a condemned convict. Castiel searched Dean's face, wondering why he was acting so remorseful. Once close enough to the table, Dean reached a hand out and carefully slid his fingertips across the top of Cas's hand. Castiel savored the feeling, looking up to finally meet eyes with Dean.

"I'm...I'm sorry," the man mumbled, his emerald eyes glistening as they bore into Castiel.

"Did I do something wrong, Dean?" Castiel asked instantly, dying to know the answer.

Dean shook his head as a streak of sadness came over his face. His whole hand was suddenly gripping the angel's.

"No. Not a damn thing," he answered, leaning forward to rest his forehead to Cas's, "You didn't do anything wrong, Cas. It was me, I swear it was. I just..." he paused, seeming to be trying to find the right words, "...I'm just not used to being given so much affection."

The honesty in Dean's stare was bold. Castiel could understand, at least a little, of what Dean was trying to say. The man wasn't accustomed to being doted on, and pleasured altruistically, and cared for in the same way he took care of others. He wasn't accustomed to being _loved_.

Castiel tilted his head, bringing his lips to press against Dean's. He kissed the man as sweetly as possible, reaching up to cradle the back of his fragile head. Dean kissed him back firmly, parting his lips to taste Cas's mouth. Castiel gently pulled back enough to speak.

"Perhaps I can help you overcome that," he stated, lips brushing over Dean's.

A smile graced Dean's mouth, spreading to light up his entire face.

"I think you just might," he agreed.

(**Author's Note**: I think we can all agree that John Winchester was a shitty father, right? What an ass that guy was. At least Dean's got Sammy, who is the definition of an awesome brother. Can I get an amen? :) By the way, this chapter was published at close to 2 in the morning, in my world. Hey, when something is begging to be written, you gotta do it. :) As always, I appreciate all of your insightful reviews! I find them overwhelmingly necessary in helping a story continue. It's amazing what you can get done with a little push. :) Thank you! The next chapter will be out very soon!)


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel and Dean stood against the kitchen table with their mouths connected for some time. The angel was toying with the impression of intercourse; deliberately tightening his fingers on Dean's hips and pulling him forward to press their pelvis's together. He was attempting to send an erotic message in roughly the same manor Dean did before; mimicking actions that were normally associated with sex – such as stroking a phallic object or, in this case, imitating sensual thrusting.

And Dean was clearly receiving these signals; responding to Castiel's movements with equal yearning. After the angel gave a single, hard thrust against Dean's front, the man chuckled his way out of their kiss.

"Could you be anymore obvious?" Dean smiled.

"Indeed, I could," Castiel nodded, exquisitely glad to see happiness back on Dean's lovely face, "but it seems I don't have to."

Dean briefly glanced around, appraising the kitchen and the study beyond the large archway. His green eyes were scrutinizing the area; perhaps internally debating whether this space would be adequate for intercourse. Castiel, too, looked around. To be perfectly honest, he believed they could have fairly enjoyable sex on any of the surfaces available; the worn sofa, the cluttered desk, the kitchen table...Frankly, the setting didn't matter. But the smile on Dean's lips was fading, as he glanced around.

"What if Bobby comes home early?" Dean mumbled, sounding like he was thinking aloud.

"Then, I will fly us elsewhere," Castiel assured, able to see the worry growing in the man's face.

Dean took a deep breath, his chest extending to brush against Cas's. He didn't seem to gain any ease with the angel's words. Was it the thought of being discovered in the middle of sex that bothered him so much? Did he fear eyes falling witness to their intimate embrace, or did he fear the judgment that might follow? The man cleared his throat as he inched back.

"Just, uh, lemme get a beer first," he said, his statement sounding more like a question, "I need the carbs to keep up with your holy ass."

"Of course, Dean," Castiel urged, slowly letting go of his hips, "take your time."

As Dean turned to walk toward the refrigerator, the angel looked back into the study. If prying eyes were what caused Dean distress, then Castiel would make sure they had complete privacy. He stepped into the study and shut the blinds on the windows. The angel raised his hand to draw the curtains closed with celestial magic; pulling them tight together to drown out the dimming sunset sky. The room darkened considerably in its absence.

After the windows were taken care of, Castiel turned to look more closely at the study. He scanned for a place within the room that could best be used to shield fornication, in case someone were to stumble upon them. The angel eyed the desk, seeing that the fireplace was only a few feet behind it. The rugged floor looked exceptionally inviting; soft enough to lay Dean down on and have him remain comfortable.

Castiel raised his hand toward the charred logs resting inside the fireplace, and created a spark. They caught fire almost instantly; the growing flames giving the dark room a warm, orange glow. Castiel looked along the floor space between the fireplace and desk again, picturing them laying tangled together. It was going to be an excellent place to disappear into the throws of heated infatuation -

"Way to set the mood."

Castiel's eyes raised at the sound of Dean's low voice. The man was smirking as he slowly made his way into the room. It appeared that the angel was finally successful in easing his distress. Dean took a large gulp from the brown bottle before stepping over to place it on the cluttered wooden desk. The two of them were standing fairly close as the glow of the fireplace warmed the air around them. Cas could understand, now, the primal influence fire had in shifting humanistic urges. The flames seemed to be fueling the intensity between the two of them, as they stood searching each others' faces.

"I would pleasure you until you could no longer register the difference between heaven and earth, Dean," Castiel uttered, unable to stop himself, but then quickly added, "if I could."

Dean gulped; his adam's apple bobbing as his eyes widened the tiniest bit. He was suddenly slipping his shirt off, gripping the bottom hem and crossing his arms to pull it up over his head. Castiel drank in the sight of Dean's bare torso, admiring the dark nipples, ridges of muscle and valleys of soft skin. His tan body appeared almost copper with the glow of the orange fireplace. The man tossed his shirt away and stepped forward, reaching out to hook his index fingers around Cas's.

"Boy, I'd like to see you try," he said quietly, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

It delighted Castiel to see the playfulness returning to Dean's expression. The earlier confusion from the alley made the angel realize how terrible it would be if happiness disappear from the man standing before him.

"If you ever feel threatened by my actions Dean, you need only say so," Castiel offered, remembering how angered and frightened he was in the alley, "Hurting you is the farthest thing from my true intentions."

"I know," Dean nodded, leaning forward to brush his lips against the angel's.

Castiel kissed Dean in return, raising his hands to curve them around his bare back. There was a distinct sting of alcohol lurking in the man's mouth. Dean was tugging at the angel's coat while Cas guided them toward the small space between the desk and fireplace. Heat was growing all around them, both among the room and inside their embrace. Once close enough to the rug, Castiel carefully tipped Dean to the side and laid him in the floor.

The man made a noise of surprise at the sudden horizontal position, tightening his grip on the angel's clothes. Cas hovered over him, looking down to search all along his precious face as it shined in the light of the fire next to them. Dean was already breathing irregularly; huffing while he pulled at the front of Castiel's coat.

"You – you can put clothes on with your power or whatever, so can you take them off like that, too?" he asked, appearing eager.

Castiel raised to rest on his knees. It had strangely never crossed his mind to rid them of clothes in that manor, but Dean had a point. Perhaps taking them off would be just as simple as returning them. The angel reached down and placed his palm flat against Dean's tense abdomen. In a flash, the man's clothes were gone, revealing the organ beginning to swell between his legs. Dean stifled a gasp at the sudden exposure, looking down to see his own body.

"Nice," he breathed, returning his eyes to Cas's, "your turn."

Castiel braced his hand against his own chest at Dean's words, and the clothes on his vessel vanished. They were then laying naked together on the worn rug; Castiel hovering over Dean while the man's eyes wandered all over the angel's naked form. The fire crackled beside them, casting bits of embers to bounce among the fireplace. It occurred to Castiel, as he brought his lips down to meet Dean's mouth, that they had never faced each other during intercourse. Their encounters had always resulted in Castiel pressed at Dean's back while he faced away. But now, he was lost in Dean's emerald eyes as their naked bodies were pressed together, and it made Castiel realize that he favored this position far more for that very reason.

Craving to get started, Castiel raised briefly to peer down at his own stiffening organ. The angel gathered saliva in his mouth and transferred it to his palm. He lubricated himself, stroking his own member with his wet hand, before lining up with Dean's entrance. The man allowed him access, holding his legs back and wearing a prepared expression. Castiel prodded a finger in first, loosening the muscle in preparation. Dean's breathing became harsher at the sensation.

"Shit," he grumbled, his jaw tightening, "just put it in."

Wanting to cater to Dean's wishes, Castiel removed his finger and replaced it with the hard shaft. Dean's eyes were squinted shut as the angel entered him, his mouth open and gasping. Sheer pleasure radiated from Cas's organ as he slid inside Dean's body. He couldn't compare the sensation to any other in existence. He watched Dean's face as he carefully slid in and out of his tender opening.

Moans were pressing at the edge of Castiel's mouth as he steadily increased speed. He enjoyed the sight of Dean's emerald eyes clouding with pleasure while he penetrated him. The man reached up to take hold of Castiel's extended arms, that were braced on either side of him. Their eyes met as Castiel deepened his thrusts.

"Ah," the erotic cry floated out of Dean's mouth like a tumbling feather, "Mmm, Cas."

Castiel made his own noise at the sound of Dean's approval. The concept of giving Dean pleasure seemed to add to the angel's own. He went faster, feeling the sack beneath his shaft smacking against Dean's lower back with the thrusts. Between them, laying against Dean's scrunched lower stomach, was Dean's erection. The organ was wobbling around with Cas's motions, rubbing seminal fluid against the man's tense muscles. The wet streaks glistened in the orange light from the fireplace. Wanting Dean to share in physical bliss, Castiel took hold of the drooling shaft; wrapping all of his damp fingers around the organ.

"Ahh," Dean moaned, his hips thrusting slightly, "ah, yeah."

With Dean's approval, Castiel began to stroke the man's member. He kept in mind all of the techniques Dean had taught him before; about the correct way of handling this particular body part. The angel tugged at the throbbing organ as he thrust inside him, coaxing pleasure both inside and out. Groans fought to escape Dean's mouth as he curled against Castiel.

"S – Son of a bitch," Dean's straining voice cracked, "faster!"

Castiel complied, moving both his hands and hips in sync. The angel's own pleasure was mounting with the sight of Dean's enjoyment; his gasping mouth and tensing muscles and green eyes beginning to roll back. Cas rocked hard into Dean each time, feeling the man's insides tightening against his own erection. The climax was approaching rapidly; causing Castiel to pound into Dean with fierce determination.

"Cas!" Dean cried, his hands gasping at the angel's arms, "Ah, shit! Y – Yeah!"

The organ in Castiel's hand pulsed, shooting semen up Dean's glistening torso. Just as the angel looked down to see the white fluid splattering all over the man's front, an orgasm burst within his own body. Thoughts were lost from his mind as euphoria draped over him. He was moving without being aware; too bogged down with pleasure to recall how to properly function. He could feel himself releasing inside Dean, filling him up with all his organ had to offer. To Castiel, there was no sensation in the history of mankind that felt as exquisite as this – being totally enveloped inside Dean.

As he made the woozy descent from the height of bliss, Castiel blinked down to search Dean's face. The man seemed to be in a similar state of hazy felicity. He was panting on the floor, blinking lazily toward the angel as his chest heaved. The sight gave Cas a certain sense of pride. _He_ was the reason Dean was so drunk with pleasure, and it made everything worth while.

Instead of speaking, Dean reached up to wrap his arms around Castiel's neck and shoulders. The man yanked the angel down into a sudden kiss, allowing his hands to roam all over Cas's bare flesh. Dean was kissing him softly; similar to how a lover would greet their partner after a long overdue absence. His lips were almost clinging to the angel's, his arms tight around him as if he thought Cas might vanish. Castiel held him in return, circling his arms around the man and relaxing on top of him. Why was Dean being so affectionate, like this?

* * *

Dean kissed Cas hard, holding him as close as he could. Warm emotion was coursing through him just like before; feeling like whiskey in his veins. All the one-night-stands in Dean's life _added together_ couldn't even hold a candle to sex with Cas. Even after all the rough-housing was over, he was still left feeling this sweltering of pleasure. And not the physical kind. No, it was something deeper than that. Something he couldn't put his damn finger on. But he loved it. God, he loved feeling this way.

"Mmm, that was so good," Dean mumbled into Cas's mouth.

The angel raised his head a little, parting their lips to breathe. Dean panted while he stared up at him, getting lost in those oceans of his eyes. His pale face was glistening with a little sweat in the orange light from the fire. Man, Cas was just so good-looking. How in the world did Dean not notice how hot he was before all of this? Out of nowhere, Dean heard the echo of his father's haunting voice in his head -

_What the hell are you doing, Dean?_

Panic was trying to rise in Dean again, as the picture of John's angered face flashed in his mind. But Dean fought against the queasy feeling trying to take root in his gut. No. He was not gonna let his dad ruin another moment with Cas. His jaw clicked shut as he took deliberate breathes. It was so hard to ignore the guy's furious shouts of disapproval.

"What's the matter, Dean?"

Dean's eyes flashed up to meet Cas's again. Apparently, the angel could still see right through him; picking up his every emotion just like that. Dean sighed. Maybe what he needed was a distraction; something to drown out the terrible image in his head.

"Tell me a story, Cas," Dean requested, figuring that listening to Cas's voice would calm him down.

"A...story?" Cas repeated, lost.

"Yeah. Tell me an old war story or something," Dean suggested, "Make it a bloody one."

Maybe hearing about Cas smiting droves of random creatures would help him cope with his own anger. He knew Cas was bound to have tons of stories just waiting to be told, anyway. Cas blinked, getting lost in his own head for a second, before taking a deep breath. Dean kept his focus on Cas's blue eyes, still subconsciously fighting his father.

"Well," Cas began, his hand gently roaming over Dean's bare chest, "Once, my father bestowed a mission upon me that was of the highest importance -"

"That's fine," Dean said, "tell that one."

"Okay,... I was in charge of leading my garrison into battle. Of course, the enemy knew we were on our way and had prepared for our arrival, so we were met with retaliation as soon as we set foot in their territory," Cas spoke, his eyes flickering away.

Dean had been right. Cas's low voice was as calming as a lullaby, making the man's heart and lungs ease at the sound. Dean kept listening; watching Cas's face shift with emotion he told his story.

"I slaughtered countless demons. Anyone that dared to stand in my way was destroyed instantly,... but many of my brothers and sisters were lost in the sea of war, as well," he said, more quietly, "I know my father created us to be void of all emotion, but their voices still haunt me to this day. I was their leader, and some of them were calling my name with their last breaths..."

Pain was clear on Cas's face as he spoke, making Dean's heart ache for him. But peace came back to his eyes, when he looked down at Dean.

"I had to stick to the mission, as my father instructed," Cas explained, "I could not aid them, when there was something more urgent to accomplish."

Dean swallowed harshly. It was hard not to get upset at Cas's words. How dare Cas's father make him go through all of that, and be burdened with it for the rest of his life...

"It was a terrible ordeal," the angel continued, his hand pausing to rest in the middle of Dean's chest, "and one that I'll never be able to forget. But, no matter how horrific the battle was, I did what was asked of me. Because I had to."

"Bullshit," Dean spat.

Cas looked down at him instantly, his blue eyes clouding with confusion. Dean's heart was racing again. It pissed him off to remember how Cas used to blindly follow orders. He didn't have to let his siblings die, and live with all this unnecessary guilt. But Cas thought he had to, just because of what his father said.

"You always have a choice, Cas," Dean reminded.

"I know, Dean," Cas said quietly, "and I _did_ choose to do it."

"Why?" Dean asked, stunned and angered at the same time, "You watched your brothers and sisters burn to death and now you live with the memory of their screams. You _chose_ that? What the hell was it all for? What could possibly be worth all of that?!"

Cas gulped, pressing his hand firmly against the cavity of Dean's chest. The next word hummed out of his mouth like sound of gentle rain.

"You."

Dean blinked against Cas's intense stare, feeling a little lost.

"What?" he mumbled.

"Dean," the angel said, sliding his hand over to clutch the scar on Dean's arm, "This is the story of how I rescued you from hell. I chose to fight for _you_."

Dean's limbs felt numb all of the sudden. His heart was hammering against his chest, making Cas's hand vibrate with the brutal thumps. He'd forgotten what it felt like to be worth something, and now Cas was giving him a powerful reminder. And it felt damn good. Again, he got lost in the angel's giant blue eyes, feeling like his breath was stolen from his lungs.

For the first time in a long time, Dean thought that maybe he really _was_ worth something. And maybe John Winchester's opinion really didn't matter. Because, in Cas's world, Dean was the sea and the sky and the sun and the moon and the stars... Dean meant everything to Cas.

Feeling like a weight had lifted off of him, Dean reached up to pull Cas to him again. He clung to Cas's bare body, filling his lungs with the soothing scent of his hair. He wished he could somehow show Cas that he felt the same way; that Cas was everything to him, too.

"You,... I,..." Dean tried to find the words, as tears pressed at the back of his eyes, but they just weren't coming out, "...Cas,..."

"Dean, you don't have to say it," Cas whispered quietly, laying Dean back on the soft rug, "I already know."

(**Author's Note**: Gah! I love tender moments. :) A bit of strange information for you: A song that fits really well with the end of this chapter is_ Landslide_ by Fleetwood Mac. I know, I know. My taste in music is so weird. :) In other funny news, I happened to see _Dawn of the Planet of the Apes_ this weekend, and do you know what I thought about the whole time? That's right. Dean and Cas. :) It went a little something like this:

_Me_: Hey! That monkey has green eyes, just like Dean!

_My Cousin_: …

_Me_: Hey! That other monkey has blue eyes, just like Cas!

_My Cousin_: …

_Me_: Is it just me, or do these monkeys look just like Dean and Cas?!

_My Cousin_: You need serious medical help.

Lol. That's no lie. :) Thank you guys for being so patient with this chapter! I hope you all have enjoyed this story so far, and will continue to enjoy it. Your blessed reviews are seriously amazing, I can't thank you enough! :) In the next chapter, Dean finally has his convo with Bobby. Eeep! :) It will be out soon!)


	6. Chapter 6

"Dean,"

Dean's head rolled toward the sound of Cas's voice, though his eyes were still closed. He yawned, reaching his arms over his head to stretch his stiff back against the hard floor. Sleep was still heavy over him, but he tried to force himself awake. Because he was aware that it was _Cas_ talking; breathing his name like a wisp of smoke.

"Dean,"

The man commanded his eyes to blink open, straining to focus his sight toward the direction of Cas's voice. The angel was crouching down next to him; fully dressed, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. Dean stared at him for a second, searching along his suit and coat. Wait, hadn't they been laying naked together? Hadn't the fireplace been going, while they screwed each other senseless? And wasn't there a brief chick-flick moment between them, or something?

"H – Hey," Dean said, feeling a weird rush of chemicals.

Looking at Cas's pretty face, Dean was reminded of that last thing that happened just before he fell asleep; the one where Cas's story made him feel like he was worth something. Just remembering it gave Dean goosebumps. He felt like a shy schoolboy all of the sudden, staring up at his crush with overflowing buckets of puppy love. Dean could feel heat rising in his cheeks as a goofy grin spread over his mouth. Man, it was so nice to see the precious bastard before anything else.

"Hello, Dean," Cas smiled back, apparently noticing Dean's goo-goo eyes.

"What happened?" Dean asked, sitting up to see that he was dressed, too, "I thought we were, uh, having a moment."

Cas's head tilted ever so slightly. He blinked, flashing those big sapphires with wonder.

"A moment? You must be referring to last night," he smiled a little, "You fell asleep, Dean, so I clothed you and let you rest. But now, it's daylight and -" he paused, glancing toward the other side of the study, "...and Bobby has just arrived."

Oh, shit. The good feeling was gone. The blood that had been raising to heat Dean's face made a sudden u-turn and drained away to leave him pale. Oh God, he'd forgotten about Bobby! How the hell could he forget about that damn conversation with Bobby?! Dean's heart was suddenly pounding against his ribs.

"Son of a bitch," Dean grumbled, climbing to his feet.

Thankfully, no one was in the study or the kitchen beyond the archway. It was still only Dean and Cas in the immediate area. The man glanced all around, feeling panic rising in him like water filling up a sinking boat. Shit. He hadn't even planned out what he was going to say to the guy. He'd been so wrapped up with thoughts of his dead father lately – freaking out about what his hypothetical reaction _might_ be – that everything else was pushed aside.

Everything except Cas.

Dean brought his eyes to rest on the angel's studious face. He took a few breaths, using the mere sight of Cas to calm himself. His angel was still here; still standing right in front of him, even after Dean tried to push him away so many times. Dean reached out and tugged on Cas's hand, to get a grip on something real. Cas never worried about shit like this, did he? Opinions of others didn't matter to him. Maybe it was time Dean learned to feel the same way.

"Where is he?" Dean asked.

Just as Cas opened his mouth to speak, the backdoor creaked open; the sound wafting through the kitchen to interrupt. Heavy footsteps were making their way inside the house, accompanied by the clinking of keys. Dean released Cas's hand and took a step back, starring at the open kitchen with wide eyes. Any minute now, Bobby was gonna walk toward that table and see Dean standing there. And then that look was gonna cross his face – maybe one similar to what he pictured John wearing – and then things would never be the same between them.

Dean's heart raced, as he watched the older man walk into view. He looked the same as ever; plaid shirt, vest jacket, torn jeans, faded hat, untrimmed beard...He was the same old Bobby. And his flat expression didn't change in the least, when he glanced over to see Dean standing in his study. The guy opened his mouth to speak, and Dean internally braced for impact. Here it comes; he's gonna spit fire...

"Did you drink my last cold beer, kid?" he asked, shuffling through some mail in his hands.

Dean blinked. He wasn't expecting that at all. What, no snarly remarks about kissing a dude? No 'get the hell out of my house, you damn fudge-packer'? Nothing? Dean shifted a little, as he tried to come up with the proper response.

"Uh,...y – yeah..?" he forced out.

"Then you're footin' the bill for the next six pack," he mumbled, tossing a warning glance at Dean.

Dean was at a total loss. Bobby was supposed to be yelling at him; calling him out on all the dude-on-dude action he'd been having with Cas. But he wasn't. He was just going through his mail like nothing had ever changed. Was it possible that maybe he didn't know about it?

Cas stepped closer to Dean, to peek into the kitchen. Bobby glanced up to see him and a strange paleness came over his features. He looked away quickly, raising his hand up to slightly shield his face with his mail. Cas, too, seemed to become embarrassed. His cheeks flushed as he looked away, tilting his head down in shame. Dean glanced between the two of them, trying to figure out what the hell he'd missed.

"Cas," Bobby said gruffly, turning his back toward him, "did you at least use the front door this time?"

"I – I did," Cas answered lowly.

After studying the angel's behavior for a second, Dean finally realized what was going on. This was the first time Cas and Bobby had seen each other...since Cas accidentally popped in on Bobby in his tighty-whiteies. Dean and Cas met eyes, and the man could see the giant amount of discomfort the angel was in. Dean could only imagine how terrible the sight must have been, for both him and Bobby. He was suddenly trying to hold down a laugh, remembering how grossed out Cas was. Poor bastard.

"I, um, I think I should wait outside, Dean," Cas whispered.

The smile fled from Dean's lips. As much as he selfishly wanted Cas to stay, deep down he knew it was probably for the best. Just like with Sam, it was easier to talk to Bobby when he was alone with him. The truth just seemed to slide out better that way. Dean nodded a little, as he watched Cas back away.

"Okay," he replied.

It felt like there should be more words to go along with 'okay.' Cas was getting ready to leave him alone with Bobby; shouldn't there be something else tacked onto the end of that sentence? As the silence set in among the room, the angel whooshed away. Dean took a deep breath, preparing himself, before turning to face Bobby.

The old man was standing at the kitchen counter, now, making himself a cup of coffee. The smell of fresh coffee grounds struck Dean as he forced his way into the bright room. The morning sun was making the kitchen glow; warming it up to make it feel like home. Dean brought himself to sit at the table as he eyed Bobby's back. It was eating him alive, not knowing whether the guy knew about him and Cas or not.

"Want some coffee, boy?" Bobby mumbled.

"Uh, no," Dean answered, "...thanks."

"Suit yourself."

After picking up his steaming mug, Bobby made his own way over to the table. He took the chair directly across from Dean; making it impossible to look anywhere but at him. Dean's heart was picking up speed again as he searched along Bobby's familiar face. Did he know? Did he _not_ know? Was the guy just in denial of the whole thing? Was he judging Dean in his mind? Secretly disappointed? Wanting to kick him out? Trying to play it off?

"Just let me have it," Dean suddenly blurted, unable to cope with his inner monologue anymore.

Bobby's thick eyebrows came together under the bill of his worn hat.

"Have what?" he asked, looking lost.

"Don't give me that crap," Dean almost growled, feeling terror rearing it's ugly head inside him, "I know you and Sam had a bet going or whatever. I know you know about...about me and Cas..."

Bobby stopped, mid-sip, and blinked strangely at Dean. This was it. Dean just knew this was the moment that things were going to be altered forever, between him and the only true father-figure he'd ever had. Dean paused for Bobby to speak, but he didn't. He just sat his mug on the table and stared at him, like he was waiting for Dean to keep going. The longer the silence stretched on, the more fear buzzed in Dean's gut like a swarm of wasps.

"Go on," Dean spat, ready for the fight to start, "go ahead and tell me how disappointed you are."

"What?" Bobby said.

"Go on and start yelling at me. Start giving me hell for even thinking about going against everything you ever taught me -"

"Taught you?"

" - to be with an angel who happens to be a guy. I get it, man. I get how terrible it looks on the outside, but you have no idea how damn good it is on the inside, okay?!"

"Dean -"

"I didn't do this to make you mad," Dean kept going, words flowing out of him like water rushing from a broken dam, "I didn't do this just to go against your rules. I know this isn't the path you paved for me to follow. You wanted a perfect son; I know because you tried to beat it into me. But I'm with Cas because he makes me _happy_, alright? He makes me feel like I'm_ worth_ something, which is more than you ever did! So, you can take your unjust opinion and shove it up your ass, _Dad!_"

Silence rested heavily in the room after the last syllable rang against the walls. Dean panted, realizing what he'd just said. Bobby may have been the one sitting right in front of him – wearing a look of shock with his jaw on the floor – but his speech was truly meant for the man that had recently taken up unwanted vacancy in his head.

It was meant for John Winchester.

Dean's defenses began to crumble, as he stared at the look of surprise on Bobby's face. Aw, hell. He hadn't meant to yell at Bobby like that. Tears were pressing at the back of Dean's eyes as he tried to calm his breathing. He tore his stare away, hanging his head to bury his face in his hand.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Bobby," he uttered, fighting to keep the liquid behind his eyelids.

"Jesus, kid," Bobby breathed, sounding worried, "your father sure did a shitty job."

A dark chuckle croaked from Dean's throat. Yeah, he sure did.

The kitchen door suddenly opened to the right. Dean instantly sat up and snapped his blurry eyes toward it; trying to act normal in case it was Cas. He didn't want to worry the angel anymore. But, it was Sam who stumbled into the room. The kid's hair was a mess, his clothes were disheveled, and he reeked of alcohol. There was some weird necklace hanging loosely around his neck. But upon looking around, his goofy grin disappeared; apparently realizing the air in the room was full of tension. He cleared his throat as he leaned against the counter.

"What's going on?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"What's going on with you?" Dean rebutted, seeing that his brother had apparently had a busy night, "Is that a _candy_ necklace?"

Sam's eyes dropped to the string around his neck, his face tinting with embarrassment. He nervously ripped the thing off – which only sent tiny beads of candy tumbling to the floor. In a rush of nervous movements, Sam knelt down to catch them all.

"Er, sorry, Bobby," he said, getting in his knees to scrape the candy into a pile.

Dean looked forward to watch Bobby roll his eyes. The poor guy was obviously at a loss with Sam and Dean's weird behavior. But, while Sam raked candy off the floor next to them, Bobby set his eyes back on Dean's. The seriousness returned to the kitchen, as the two men stared at each other.

"You listen here, son, and you listen good," he began, "I might not be your daddy, but I care for you the same now, as I always have. It doesn't matter to me, whether you're with Cas or not. Who you choose to pork is your own damn business," he paused to point toward the kitchen door, "That door is always gonna be open for you, if you ever need anything from me, and I'm always gonna answer the phone. "

Dean's heart pounded in his chest, making more tears ooze from the corners of his eyes.

"All I ask, is that you make Cas knock before barging in here," he added, looking to be fighting a shudder, "he's already seen enough."

An actual smile spread across Dean's face. He'd been so damn worried about John Winchester, that he'd forgotten how awesome Bobby was. If anyone had earned the right be be called 'dad,' it was him.

"Thanks," Dean nodded.

"Were you worried about Dad, or something?"

Dean looked up at his brother, who had finished gathering his candy and stood back up. Sam looked genuinely concerned, staring down at Dean with a tiny bit of curiosity. Dean took a deep breath. As much as he hated to admit it, he forced a nod.

"Yeah. I know he's dead, Sammy, but he still gets to me," Dean answered.

Sam played with the candy pieces in his hand for a second, rolling them around. He looked like he was wanting to say something, but holding back. And Dean hated when he did that; always stopping himself from saying what was on his mind.

"Say it, Sam," Dean said, wanting to hear it.

His little brother smirked a little, meeting eyes with Dean again.

"Well, it's just," he paused to take a small breath, "...did you ever stop to think about what mom would say?"

There was a brief silence, as the Winchester brothers stared at each other with understanding. Dean knew what Sam was thinking, as the smirk grew on his lips. They both knew what their mother's opinion would be – because she'd already said it a million times...

_Angels are watching over you._

(**Author's Note**: Why is Sammy wearing a random candy necklace in this chapter? If you've read any of my other fics, I'm sure you can figure it out. :) Did this chapter give you feels? If so, then I'm sincerely sorry. Please accept this apologetic offering of pie, beer, and the entire first season of _Dr. Sexy M.D_ :) My precious readers, I must once again thank you for all the beautiful reviews. I try to add certain things, (like the candy necklace) just to make you smile. Thank you for sticking with this roller coaster of a story for so long! :) There is one more chapter to go. It will be out soon!)


	7. Chapter 7

Castiel took another deep breath as he shifted against the Impala. His eyes were set on Bobby's front door; beyond which, Dean was indulging in a personal conversation. Of course, Castiel was more than curious to know how things were going; if Bobby was accepting of their relationship, and if Dean was still emotionally stable. Before leaving the men to talk, Cas was able to see the twinge of fear in Dean's eyes, and it worried him to think Dean might be having a difficult time.

The idea of eavesdropping crossed the angel's mind, but he dismissed it. There was no need to interfere with this conversation, was there? It was _Bobby_, after all. What would he do, in the worst case scenario? He would probably ask Dean to leave...and never return. Castiel gulped, blinking at the door with sudden concern. If Bobby was to discommend Dean in such an objecting way, simply because of who he chose to fornicate with, it would utterly break Dean's stout heart...

With the anxiety of this realization resting heavily on Castiel's shoulders, he began to edge his way toward the door. He could not allow such a terrible fate to fall on Dean; not after witnessing him acting so upset lately. Cas couldn't stand the thought of Dean remaining in a perpetual state of unhappiness; the same terrible kind that consumed him in the alley...

But, the door was opening before Castiel could walk away from the Impala. Dean made his way outside, glancing around as he shut the door behind him. The angel appraised him instantly, studying his ginger body movements and worn facial expression. When his eyes met Castiel's, a small smile stretched across his lips.

But even from the slight distance, Cas could see the fragments of red veins etched across the white of Dean's eyes. The emerald irises were starkly green in contrast to the faded red around them. There was only one explanation for this. Tears had recently escaped Dean's eyes.

Castiel flew to Dean, closing the distance between them in less than a second. Dean blinked in surprise at his unexpected close proximity. Anger was suddenly flowing through the angel, as he reached up to touch the side of Dean's damp face. What did Bobby do, to make Dean so upset? What icy words had the man spoken, that would cause him to shed tears? Was Bobby unaware of the sheer power he held over Dean's emotions?

"What happened?" Castiel asked, through almost gritted teeth.

For a brief moment, the angel was prepared to burst inside the house and release his unyielding wrath over Bobby Singer. He was ready to use any amount of force necessary to insure that no one – not even those closest to him – could get away with causing Dean so much pain. But then, Dean was shaking his head; nuzzling deeper against Castiel's hand as he disagreed.

"No," he answered, still smiling, "he's...he's actually okay with it."

Castiel searched Dean's face to make sure he was being honest. The angel knew how the man tended to hide the truth, sometimes. But he could see that Dean was being perfectly genuine, now. Bobby must have truly been okay with it. Castiel felt a little guilty at his internal overreaction.

"Then, why were you crying?" the angel asked, caressing the moist corner of Dean's eye with his thumb.

Dean took a slight breath. His eyes left Cas's to glance around before returning.

"Hey, uh,...can you do me a favor?" Dean asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Name it," Castiel replied.

"I want you to think of the most beautiful place you've ever seen," he spoke softly, reaching up to clutch the front of the angel's coat.

Castiel paused to do as Dean instructed. He pictured the whole of the earth in his mind, and quickly assessed the specific location that he found to be the most aesthetically pleasing. It was a glorious sight to behold, even in his mind's eye.

"I am," Cas nodded.

"Good," Dean smirked, "now take us there."

Without hesitation, Castiel carefully wrapped his arms around Dean and flew him away. They landed in the hot sand; their shoes sliding atop the shifting grains. A warm breeze was suddenly tossing around their clothes and hair, filling the air with the savory smell and taste of salt. Crashing waves and the distant call of birds gave music to the setting, as the hot sun shined down on them.

Dean blinked against the harsh light, raising his hand up to shield his eyes from the unforgiving sun. Castiel watched the man take in the general splendor of the place, secretly pleased to see the awe growing in his green eyes. The magnificent, sparkling ocean was laid out before them as they stood so tiny on the shore. Perhaps this was the reason Castiel favored this place above all others; because the sheer enormity of the majestic ocean made him feel so very small. And reminded him that even the smallest of things are not without purpose.

Castiel brought his eyes back to Dean. The air was still breezing across his clothes and ruffling his hair, but he didn't seem to mind. He was staring blankly at the distant waves as a nearly unreadable expression painted his face. Was he happy? Sad? Feeling lost? The angel carefully reached out and clasped the man's hand. The smile was trying to return to Dean's mouth.

"It's a little cliché," Dean said over the roar of the waves, "...but as beautiful as hell."

"Hell is not beautiful, Dean," Castiel reminded, tightening his fingers.

The man chuckled a bit, before tugging Cas along. He began to mosey down the beach, wearing a lovely smile.

"It's a figure of speech, Mighty Mouse," he mumbled, taking slow and firm steps.

Castiel could sense that Dean was meaning to say something; preparing his words as he walked along. His fingers were drawn tight against Cas's and his eyes were on the sand. Perhaps he thought the change of setting would prove useful in helping coax out the words. Castiel was still patiently waiting for his question to be answered; wanting to know why Dean was upset.

"Cas," Dean said quietly, walking even slower, "I'm sorry I've been acting so damn pissy lately."

"There is no need to apologize, Dean," Castiel tried to stop him from explaining.

"No, there is," he continued, his freckled face glowing in the warm sun, "That was a dick move, what I did to you in the alley. But, you've gotta know I didn't mean it. I was just..."

The man's feet eased to a stop in the sand. He shifted to face Castiel, bringing their eyes together. The angel became lost the green orbs, as they stared so powerfully into him.

"I was fighting with my old man," Dean breathed, sounding like a heavy burden had been lifted from him.

Castiel was a bit confused.

"Your...father? But, he is deceased," the angel pointed out.

"It doesn't matter," Dean went on, the sound of ocean waves accompanying his voice, "I know what he'd do if he ever found out about us. He'd go the hell off, Cas. He would be so damn furious about me having sex with you. He'd beat the living shit out of me -"

"No," Castiel spat instantly, his jaw clinching shut at the thought of Dean being abused, "He wouldn't. Because _I_ would _never_ allow it. He wouldn't dare lay a finger on you in my presence."

A smile graced Dean's face once again, as a slight pink color rose beneath his freckles.

"That's, uh, nice to know," he said, appearing bashful, "I forgot I had an angelic body guard. You gonna add that one to your resume?"

"I'll be anything you need me to be, Dean," Castiel replied with seriousness.

For a moment, the two of them stood by the ocean in silence. The waves broke on the shore next to them while they stared into each others' eyes. It was moments like this that Castiel found to be the most satisfying; the ones in which words were unnecessary. Where Cas could observe Dean's thoughts and feelings just by peering into his emerald eyes. There was a gigantic notion growing in them, as time stretched on. Something was pressing on Dean's lips; words demanding to be spoken...

* * *

There it was again; that intoxicating sensation pumping through Dean's body. He was practically drowning in the oceans of Cas's eyes, being hypnotized by the angel's stare. Subconsciously, he was waiting for John Winchester to barge into his head and ruin the moment – but he didn't. He was gone. Now, it was just Dean and Cas, like it ought to be. And Dean was finally able to say -

"I love you, Cas," he muttered, his fingers curling tighter around the angel's.

Dean enjoyed the tiny look of surprise that lit up Cas's face. He blinked a few times before leaning forward. Dean welcomed the angel's lips; pressing his own firmly against Cas's. It was like something out of movie; with the waves crashing nearby and the wind swirling around them while they kissed. For a second, Dean thought maybe Cas had set it up that way. But, how could he? Maybe it was just 'right place at the right time.'

Or, maybe,...it was _Cas's_ father, giving them his blessing...

"I love you, too, Dean," Cas pulled away to say.

Dean felt like a balloon on the verge of bursting; filled up with so much emotion that he was going to explode. He tugged Cas closer, pressing their fronts together in the hot sun. He felt so good, all of the sudden. All the shit that had been plaguing him for the past few days was gone. It didn't matter what his dad might think – hell, it didn't matter what _anyone_ thought – because he loved Cas. And everyone else could go screw themselves.

"Say it again," Dean requested, loving the tingle it gave is lower stomach.

"I love you," Cas repeated, smiling wrapping his arms around Dean's back.

Dean smiled, taking a deep breath of ocean air. He didn't get to hear those words spoken to him very often and they sounded so nice, especially in Cas's low voice. Dean rested his forehead against Cas's, meeting his eyes with warm admiration.

"One more," he asked.

Cas smirked, running his hands up Dean's back.

"I love you, Dean," he said again, this time in a whisper.

Feeling the urge to giggle like a little kid, Dean wrapped the angel into a hug; letting his lips fall against Cas's neck. He peppered the angel's whole neck in kisses, holding him tight. It felt so damn good to give and receive affection like this. Why the hell hadn't he done this shit before?

Dean's phone rang from his pocket.

The man raised his head, meeting the angel's eyes with equal confusion. He still had cell service here? It occurred to him, as he reached to answer the phone, that he didn't even know where here was. After seeing that it was Sam, Dean pressed the 'talk' button.

"Uh,...hello?" he mumbled, kinda bummed about being interrupted.

"Are you okay, Dean?" Sam asked, sounding worried, "you kinda just disappeared."

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm with Cas," Dean hinted, hoping Sam would catch the drift.

"Oh, er, am I interrupting something?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," Cas answered, leaning forward to speak into the phone near Dean's mouth, "you are."

Dean smirked. He knew Cas was listening to the conversation. Sam made a strange noise on the other end of the line, before sighing.

"Sorry," Sam said, "just, uh, come back whenever you're ready. I'm waiting in the car."

The line went dead. Dean pulled the phone away and stuffed it in his pocket. It was nice that Sam was understanding, but he didn't want to keep the poor guy waiting for them. Dean glanced around at the awesome scenery again, taking in the magnitude of salt water shimmering in the sun.

"It's too bad," he sighed, "I was hoping to try some sex on the beach."

"We still can, if you want," Cas offered, reaching down to grope Dean's crotch for good measure.

Dean grunted a little at the feeling, his smirk growing. He was grabbing the whole length of his dick through the fabric, tugging on it teasingly. God, Cas made it so damn tempting...but Dean didn't want to abandon his brother just to get laid.

"Maybe next time," Dean said, taking hold of the front of Cas's coat again.

"As you wish," the angel, nodded.

With a sudden whoosh, the warm beach and the salty breeze were gone. They were standing in front of Bobby's house again, with the Impala just a few feet away. It was overcast here; no sunshine or warm air. Reality was thick in this part of the world. It was like waking up from an amazing dream to be reacquainted with your usual boring life.

Dean took a deep breath before taking Cas by the hand and leading him to the car. At least he still had the best part of his dream with him. Dean smiled as he looked over at Cas. Even without the dramatic backdrop of the ocean, he was still so damn dreamy. Dean paused by the car to kiss Cas, for once not caring if eyes were watching. To hell with everyone else. He was gonna kiss Cas anytime, and anywhere, he wanted. Cas smiled after he pulled away.

"I'm so glad you're...feeling better," he said carefully.

"Me too," Dean agreed.

He watched the angel get into the backseat before climbing into the front seat for himself. Sam glanced between them as they got in, playing with something laying on his chest. Dean took the time to see what it was, and was surprised to find the candy necklace all patched up and back on him.

"Did you...re-string that?" he asked his little brother, lost.

Sam glanced down at the candy necklace that hung loosely around his neck. A faint blush rose in his cheeks, as his eyes flickered away.

"Uh, yeah," he said, seeming to be holding down a goofy grin.

Dean took a deep breath, wondering why Sam looked so...well, _giddy_. Sammy never acted so abnormally happy like this. What was his deal? As Dean filled his lungs, he could smell a pungent stink in the air...radiating from Sam. He leaned over and gave his little brother a sniff. The dude reeked.

"Ugh, Sam," Dean said, raising an eyebrow, "Were you playing with a dog today? You smell like wet fur."

The red on Sam's cheeks deepened as he faced forward. He rolled his eyes as he stuffed the necklace inside his shirt.

"I had a long night, okay?" he said, trying to gloss it over, "Can we just go?"

Rolling his own eyes, Dean reached forward and cranked the engine. The Impala started right up with a fierce growl, turning on the radio as she roared to life. Dean braced his arm over the back of his seat as he turned to back up. Cas was sitting there, smiling sweetly at him. The song playing in the car suddenly caught Dean's attention. It was one he knew like the back of his hand; he could point the damn thing out from hearing just a few notes.

_Hey Jude_

Dean gulped, as he stared at Cas perched behind him. Sam had been right. He hadn't taken the time out to think about what his mom would say about his relationship with Cas. And, apparently, he didn't need to. Because she was there right now; telling him not to carry the world on his shoulders and to let go of the pain. All she wanted was for him to be happy, and it didn't matter who he was happy with.

As the song faded into all those 'nah's, Dean grabbed a handful of the front of Cas's clothes and yanked him forward. Their lips smashed together again, reviving the familiar taste of lust. God, was he ever gonna get over how good it felt to kiss Cas? He silently prayed that the whiskey would keep flowing through his veins, and his heart would just keep growing to accommodate all this emotion. Because _this_ was what made him happy. It was always _Cas_.

"Ugh!" Sam groaned, trying to shrink against his door, "do you have to suck face while I'm sitting right here?!"

Dean ignored his brother for the moment, loosing himself inside Cas's kiss. No one was going to ruin any more of their moments. No one was ever gonna take away the happiness he felt with Cas. It was his, and he was going to defend it with everything he had. No more feeling guilty. No more worry about other peoples opinions. No more fear.

Just love.

(**Author's Note**: I know, some of you are like, "why does Snailhair always use songs?" :) I don't know, man! They just help the writing process! :) And, I kinda stole that whole saying 'I love you' over and over thing from Pride and Prejudice. You know, at the end, where he keeps saying, _"Mrs. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy,"_ :) God, I'm such a sap. Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart, for reading and reviewing this fic. I hope that the ending of this part was well suited. I'm unsure if there will be more parts, but I hope it has entertained you to this point, at least. :) Baskets full of love to all of you!

And, Holy hell. You guys sure can smell Sabriel from a mile away, huh? :) I know a lot of you might be wondering, "Hey, where did Sam get that candy necklace?" or "what kind of crazy shenanigans did he get into that night?" or "why the hell does he smell like wet dog?" The answers you are seeking, my dear readers, can be found in the new story I'll be cooking up. No guarantees of smut, but it will be Sabriel. And it will be funny as hell. :) Be looking out for it! Thanks so much for reading!)


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